


Sea of hate

by GreenPhoenix



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix/pseuds/GreenPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: A remake of the movie "Sea of love" with Toby as the cop hunting a serial  killer while falling for a suspect. Chris is the suspect, and Ryan Toby's partner. So is Keller the killer or not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea of hate

“Well that’s something you don’t see everyday,” said Detective Beecher as he surveyed the crime scene.  
His partner, Sean Murphy nodded.   
It was an upstate Manhattan apartment that belonged to Byam Lewis, a wealthy realtor. The man was now dead, lying naked face down on his plush bed. He’d been shot at close range, and there was an old record player playing the song “Sea of love” on an endless loop.   
Murphy gave Beecher a want-ad that Lewis had put in the local paper. It even rhymed.  
Beecher sighed, this looked very weird indeed.

*  
“He’s been dead for ten hours,” said the ME, Gloria Nathan and looked at the body on her slab. “He was shot at close range with a small caliber gun.”  
“Anything else?” asked Beecher.  
“He had sex a few hours before he was shot,” said Gloria.  
“Was he raped?”  
“No. It doesn’t appear so. There are traces of lube and spermicide in his anus, but no tearing. “  
“A guy fucked him?” asked Beecher.  
“Or a woman with a strap-on,” said Gloria and smiled knowingly. “Anyway there were traces of heroin and alcohol in his system. The perp might have drugged him, but he was most likely surprised by the shot. There were no defensive wounds. “  
“Hmm. So he knew the perp, there was no sign of forced entry in his flat.”  
“Seems likely,” said Gloria.  
Beecher thanked her and left to meet Murphy to follow the lead of the want ad, and to interview Lewis’ family and colleagues.

*  
Tobias Beecher had been a homicide detective for ten years, enough time to develop a alcohol habit and drive his wife Genevieve to leave him and marry his former partner, Tim McManus. Gen cleaned Toby out with the divorce, his family was rich but he wouldn’t take their money. He and Gen had no kids. Angus was a successful lawyer and the family white sheep. He was the burned out cop and budding alcoholic.  
He’d dated a pretty teacher after his divorce, but she soon grew tired of his long absences and bouts of self-pity.  
Following that he had a fling with an informant, Mondo Browne, the sex was great but he felt guilty about mixing business with pleasure and broke it off. He lived alone, and didn’t think that would change anytime soon.

*

He got a call from Queens, a local detective asked him to come see a crime scene. Beecher was sober enough to take the call.   
The flat belonged to Mark Carachi, a socialite and all around wild child. He was often in the press with some new beau. Now he was dead and naked, face down on his bed.  
“Sea of love” played on the stereo, and there was a want ad among his many things.  
No forced entry again, noted Beecher. The perp might have surprised the guy by ringing his front door and threatening him with a gun.  
The local detective said: “Any of this seem familiar?”   
“All of it. This exactly how Byam Lewis died. “  
“Serial killer, huh?” asked O’Reily.  
“Looks like it,” said Beecher. “Wanna collaborate?”  
“You’re kidding right? I’ve been wanting a case in Manhattan,” said O’Reily.

*

They searched together but found no new clues. Carachi, much like Lewis had sex before his death, but there were no signs of rape. Traces of ecstasy in his system, no defensive wounds.  
There was dna on a glass, but it didn’t turn up in any database.   
Beecher decided to write his own want ad and go in search of the elusive killer.  
“So,” said O’Reily, after a long session trying to think of good rhymes, moons in June occurred a lot. “These ads were guys looking for guys, huh?”  
“Yeah,” said Toby.  
“Well, I’m no fag, you go meet these guys and I’ll try to get their prints.”  
“Won’t they infect you with their fag prints?” asked Toby pointedly.  
“Very funny. Hey do you think I can score with your pretty ME? She’s really hot.”  
“I don’t know. Ask her. She’s feisty.”  
“She married?”  
“You’re in luck, she’s just divorced her husband. “  
“So you date these guys but don’t fuck them,” said Ryan with a look of concern.  
“Sure. I’ll just pump them for info. I’m a pro Ryan. “  
“I’ll bet, “ said Ryan and smiled. He’d get in Gloria’s pants in no time.

*  
Beecher put the want ad in the paper and got a bunch of replies from interested guys. He went on dates with them and Ryan, posing as a waiter got their prints from their drink glasses. No dice, yet. Toby didn’t feel tempted to take any of the guys home either. There was this older guy he felt bad for stringing along, he seemed so sincere and lonely.  
The others were cute, but there was thankfully no sparkage anywhere.  
One night he met a real winner. Chris Keller was the confident type, and with good reason. He turned heads all over the place. Toby felt his face flush for the first time in ages.  
“You the rhyme guy?” asked Keller in his bedroom voice.   
“I’m him,” said Beecher.  
“Nice,” said Keller and sat down.   
Ryan was ready to swoop up his glass. Beecher was on his second drink, but Keller didn’t touch his.  
He looked carefully at Toby and shook his head.  
“Sorry. Not feeling it,” he said.  
“Huh?”  
“I need to feel a connection and I don’t feel it with you. No spark.”  
“Give me a little time”  
“I believe in love at first sight. You don’t have that animal charisma, even if you’re cute as hell.”  
“Hey..”  
“No, thanks. I need to go. I’m wasting my time and yours,” said Keller and left.  
Toby sighed forlornly. No prints and no guy.

*

By chance he came across Keller again, this time at an auto shop. He was picking up spare parts for Angus’ car. His brother had a big date.  
“Well hey there,” said Keller and waved at him.  
“Oh if it isn’t Mr. Animal magnetism.”  
“Sorry. I was in a bad mood that day. You are even hotter in daylight,” he said with a very suggestive leer.  
“Are you in a better mood today?”  
“Hell, yes. I’m leaving work soon. You wanna come home with me and work on that bad first impression?”  
Beecher nodded. That sounded like a bad idea on so many levels, but he could get those prints now.  
*  
Keller lived in a less fancy place than he’d imagined, and it was still okay. His own flat was hardly any better.  
“You want a drink?” asked Keller.  
“No, thanks,” he said. “I’m good.”  
He wondered if Keller really had seen those guys and if he’d killed them.   
Keller seemed confident, and he was a very appealing man. He sat next to Beecher on the couch and bumped against him in a flirtatious manner.  
“Kiss me, “ said Keller.  
Toby hesitated a little and then leaned in for a kiss. Keller tasted of something rich and earthy, and his arms were warm.  
Toby had felt alone for so long that he fell easily into Keller’s arms.  
He let Keller undress him and blow him on the couch. His hands and Chris’ were intertwined the whole time.

*  
“You screwed him?” said Ryan. “Are you crazy?”  
“No. I can still work the case.”  
“Yeah, while fucking the main suspect. “  
“He’s not that. Hardly,” said Toby.  
“We’re short of clues Beech. Well, destroy your fine career. I’m off to see Gloria.”  
“Give her my best.”  
“Will do B-boy.”

*  
They found another victim, Bryce Tibbits, dead in the same manner as the others. This time in Manhattan. He’d also kept a rhymed want ad. Things were looking pretty bleak all told.  
*  
There was a storm outside, rain chasing away all the light.   
“I’m gonna do you real good,” said Keller to him.  
“I hope so.”  
Chris pushed him against the wall; he felt shivers run through his entire being. Supposing Chris wasn’t innocent? If he was the killer?   
Beecher felt a chill when Chris touched him, even as Chris brushed a strand of hair aside.  
“You okay?” he asked against Toby’s neck, breath warm and somehow comforting.  
“Yes. Just do it.”  
“Soon enough babe. Good things come to those who wait.”  
They were wrapped around each other, keeping very warm.  
“You look so good,” said Chris. “Good enough to eat”.  
Good thing they weren’t chasing a cannibal.

*

Keller soon became part of Beecher’s routine. He saw him often enough, and soon felt himself falling.   
One night he was really drunk. That would prove a bad move.  
“What’s the matter?” asked Chris.  
“I’m really drunk.”  
“I can tell.”  
“I’m also a very bad boy.”  
“Want me to spank you?”  
“Nah. I can put your beautiful ass in jail.”  
“How so?”  
“I’m a cop. And you’ve been a very bad boy Keller.”  
“The fuck Beech..”  
“I’m on your trail. And I’m going to spank you. You’ve been dating some guys who died, right? Out of the rhymed want ads section.”  
Keller narrowed his eyes and allowed Beecher to playfully spank his ass a few times, before he returned the favor.

*  
He felt himself coming to, and he was badly hung-over. His ass hurt, ah Keller had spanked him.  
“You are a cop,” said Keller. “I did answer those want ads. I fucked those guys. But I didn’t kill them.”  
Beecher sighed.  
“I know,” he said.   
“Get out of here,” said Keller.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“You lied to me. You don’t trust me at all.”  
“I love you dammit. I’m sorry..”  
“I’ll see you around.”  
Beecher left forlornly. Ryan would have a field day with this. He’d slept with a suspect and fallen in love with him. There was no evidence.

*  
There was a gun pressed to his temple.  
“Who are you?” he said. Don’t be Chris, please don’t..  
“Your worst nightmare,” said a voice that wasn’t Chris. “Take your clothes off.”  
He did, trembling. The man was ugly and he’d never seen him before.  
“I know Chris,” he said. “I killed his lovers. Things look bad for you.”  
They certainly did.  
He was face down on the bed while the man was gloating.  
“See Chris is mine. He was my bitch in prison. So I followed him and killed those guys. Nobody touches what’s mine. Not even you pretty boy.”  
That made sense; the man had some distinctive tattoos and a swastika ring.  
“Show me how you fucked him,” he said.  
Beecher reached for a trophy under the bed and clobbered the man with it. He managed to get the gun from the man, and they struggled for control.  
The man got the gun back, and Beecher punched him making the gun go off and fire in his face.  
Beecher looked at the man’s splattered brains all over his bed, and sighed. That would take ages to clean up.   
He got dressed and called his unit. This was self-defense.

*  
Keller came to see him. The dead man was Vern Schillinger, a neo-Nazi and a real piece of work.   
“So you are innocent,” said Toby.  
“Yes. Can we start over?”  
“Of course. I’m sorry I killed Vern.”  
“That’s okay. I hated the old bastard anyway.”  
“Good. You want to take me home and fuck me?”  
“All night long baby.”  
Ryan made a retching noise, but Toby ignored him. He’d requested a transfer to Manhattan, so they’d have to get along. Toby was happy for once, and Ryan would see plenty of Gloria.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this free for all prompt: Does anyone know the movie Sea of Love? Cop Al Pacino is on the track of a serial killer who might be the hot chick, Ellen Barkin, he's falling for. Toby = Al, Chris = Ellen, happy ending desired. As in: Chris isn't the serial killer. And, I know, it would be natural with a set up like this to make the sex really rough and nasty, and I'm not asking it to be vanilla ... just not unpleasant, please. No rape, no S&M mild bondage -- handcuffs, a silk tie -- can be okay. Honest, it doesn't have to be porn to be sexy.


End file.
